red firs


autumn essentials by Rona Keller
Via Flickr:
🍁 🍂 🍁 🍂 🍁 🍂


etsyfindoftheday | holiday 2017 | 12.8.17

theme: christmas pine finds
vintage christmas ornaments | pine cones, set of 3 by oldtimestories

oldtimestories’ vintage ornament collections are a holiday go-to on EFOTD, and this trio of pine cones fits perfectly into my christmas pine theme tonight. love the ombré of pink-to-red!


Explorations/ Adventures/ Public Lands/ Wilderness/ Scenes at Night

That time I hiked up to Bingham lake in the Russian Wilderness to see the Perseids meteor shower. Klamath National Forest, Siskiyou County, CA.

Unexpected (Part 1)

Getting married to Willas Tyrell was never in your plans but a princess has to do what the people expect from her. It was also never in your plans that he would be a man so different from what you first imagined, or that he would captivate you so easily.
Maybe that’s not such a bad thing, after all.
Pairing: Princess!Reader x Willas Tyrell
Other Characters: Cersei Lannister; Unnamed Handmaiden
Word Counting: 330 words
Chapter: 1/?
Warnings: This is set around season 3. Reader is barely 18 and Willas is on his late 20’s so that may be a bit weird to you guys. I kind of imagine Willas like Jared Padalecki but it’s just me. 

Originally posted by ilanawexler

“Y/N.” You heard and turned to look at your mother, her eyes staring deeply into yours. “What are you thinking?”

“Nothing, mother.”

Cersei gave you small smile, watching you through the mirror. Your red dress fir you like a glove, bringing your breasts up and the pinkish colour of your lips. The golden necklace you’ve gotten as a gift this morning from your mother-in-law matched the details of the fabric covering you and making it look richer.

“You look beautiful.” She affirmed, checking your hair to see if there was anything out of place.

You were getting married to a man you’ve never met. Your mother and grandfather had arranged a political alliance with the Tyrell and you had a duty to fulfil.

“Lord Willas will fall for you as soon as you enter the sept.” The handmaid by your side affirmed.

“Are you sure?’ You questioned, hesitant.

Cersei shook her head, seeing in you the same fear she had had at her own wedding day.

“Maybe.” She touched your back.”But it doesn’t matter, does it?”

You stared at your reflection for a moment.

“No, mother.”

Your brother was king and your role was to be a good princess. Your happiness didn’t matter, your duty did.

You were Robert Baratheon’s first child, a daughter born before Joffrey and his pride for a long time. If the world was fair, you would be his heir and the queen; however, you were just a coin and this was your fate. You couldn’t raise a sword or defend your own honour with your hands if your life depended on it but knew your beauty was a weapon.

The best weapon you have is between your legs – Cersei had told you when you flowered – your beauty will take you anywhere you want to be if you use it well.

She had taught you better than many women and mothers.

“Come.” Cersei offered you a hand as the soldier opened the door of the room you were in. “They are waiting for us.”

Keep reading


Stumps and Trunks/ Public Lands/ Exploration/ Throwback

A throwback to some autumn explorations in Washington’s Gifford Pinchot National Forest. These are part of an ongoing series of Stumps and Trunks, trees here in the Northwest have so much character. I was especially entranced with the way the vine maple added color and contrast to the trunks of conifers on Mt. Adams.

theeighthtitan  asked:

Also bc I'm replaying DA:O what about F!Warden x Zevran and "the way I feel when I'm with you" or "can I touch you?" Ugh your writing is so good thank you for even considering 😊

Ahh! Ahhh! Thank you so much! I hope you like! (ノ◕ヮ◕)ノ*:・゚✧

A sky made of leaves, golden green and brilliant red, oak and fir, strong and proud. She stands by a trickling stream, watches the wind travel through the forest. Sunlight filtering through the canopy, casting shapes upon the ground, shadows that shift. Water running over rock and moss, and she’s taking off her boots, stepping in. It’s biting cold but still she stands, sighing as she wraps her arms around herself, closing her eyes and tilting her head upwards.  

He walks softly, avoiding brush and branch. Somehow she still knows, she always does. Looking over her shoulder, smiling when she sees him. He doesn’t mind the water, rushing around his boots, steps in without a care. A hand at her hip, wrapping around her waist, while the other follows her elbow to her hand. She leans against him, chest warm against her back, allowing herself to sink into the embrace. Her hair brushes against his cheek, and he lets his head rest on her shoulder.

Such a thing, to be with her. To stand by her side, to know she sees him as equal. Too long had he been a slave to the Crows, willingly lesser. She had taken him by the hand, raised him up. Steadied his footing, given him a voice, allowed him to choose his freedom. His freedom is in her, with her, by her side. She had taken his laughter, his wit, his charm, seen what lurked behind honeyed words and humor. They march towards an impossible goal, this Archdemon, and yet he does not feel doomed. Not like when he was a Crow.

There’s something inexplicable in the way he feels when he’s with her. A pleasure the likes of which he’s never known, such comfortable joy, an ease he’s never felt before. “Zev,” she murmurs, turning in his arms, moving to face him. He links his arms around her waist, and she’s smiling as she reaches upwards to touch his face. Fingertips trace the tattoo, the shape of his face, the curve of his jaw. Thumbs brush over his cheekbones, a kiss light upon his lips. “Zevran.” Hands moving, on his shoulder, at his neck, winding in his hair. She doesn’t let him feel selfish, stealing time with her like this. She makes sure he knows he’s loved.

He reaches for one of her hands, presses a kiss to her knuckles. Tangling their fingers together, holding her hand tightly. “The others are looking for you, mi amor. Zathrian wishes to speak with you,” he tells her. She sighs as she lets go of his hand, stepping out of the stream, moving to collect her boots. Even her steps are angry, impatient, and he hides the smile behind his hand. “Amor.” She turns to see him kneeling down, hands at his side, gesturing at his back. She laughs as she makes her way towards him, allows him to lift her up.

His hands are steady underneath her thighs, and she wraps her arms around his neck. Her boots dangle before him. “Zathrian will have to wait. The evil Crow is stealing you away,” he tells her as he crosses the stream. She chuckles, her breath light at his ear.

“Is it stealing if I go willingly?” She’s plundered and pilfered, looted his heart. He lets her take it willingly, but he thinks he might tell her that later. For now, their laughter echoes in the forest, she sways in his arms, and he is smiling, and he is happy, and he loves her so.